


How to Save a Life

by jamesilver



Series: A Spirk Playlist [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Angst, Bonding, Depression, Emotions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mutual Pining, Riverside, Self-Harm, T'hy'la, Tarsus IV, amanda is alive okay, heartbroken Spock, jim goes back to riverside, jim is depressed, jim is suicidal, spock and emotions, spock has to relieve jim of duty, tarsus mention, t’hy’la bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesilver/pseuds/jamesilver
Summary: It is heartbreak. Spock realizes this. But he still knows what must be done.Doctor McCoy agreed with him, so why was he so anxious? He was nervous about Jim’s reaction. Nevertheless, Jim needed help and if that meant Spock had to remove him from duty as First Officer, then that is what must be done. Even if it jeapordized their friendship, Jim’s health and safety was more important than even that.





	How to Save a Life

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a series that takes songs and creates inspired fics using parts of the song. This specific fic was based off of The Fray’s How to Save a Life and I do not own the rights to any lyrics I possibly used, or any of the characters used. I am not making any money off of this whatsoever so please don't sue me.
> 
> Playlist will be linked in end notes.
> 
> ((also this is my first spirk fic!!))
> 
> DISCLAIMER: depression does sometimes go away on its own, but if you get bad, please seek help. also, i intentionally portrayed Jim as fine without Spock’s help because love does not automatically cure depression

Spock took a deep breath. He was nervous, which was illogical. He was going into this meeting with the support of Doctor McCoy and surely the senior officers would support his decision as well. There was no reason to be nervous.

He stepped in to the meeting room, sitting down and waiting for the rest of the senior officers to arrive. Scotty was the last to enter. “Where’s the captain?” He asked before sitting down.

Spock shared a look with the Doctor. “That is why I have called this meeting. I believe that the Captain is unfit for duty.” There were looks of shock around the table. “Doctor McCoy agrees with me.”

“What’s going on?” Uhura leaned forward, looking concerned. They all looked to McCoy for confirmation.

“Jim is...well, he’s been depressed for a long time. He’s had a lot happen to him in his life. Space has always been what kept him pretty sane. But now, I’m fairly certain he’s suicidal.”

Uhura covered her mouth with her hand for a moment before speaking. “So, Spock, will you be relieving him of duty?”

“Yes. I plan to speak with him later today, before beta shift.”

The table nodded.

“You have our full support, Commander. We only want what’s best for the Captain,” Sulu said.

The rest of the table agreed. Spock’s nerves should have been calmed by this, but they were not. He was just as anxious. It was illogical, but he was fearful of how his talk with Jim later would go. He was not sure that he would take it well.

“Do we have any idea how long it will be until he’s back?” Uhura asked.

“No. We do not,” Spock answered. “It all depends on his willingness to step down and his recovery. Once he is redeemed fit for duty, he will become Captain again. He will remain on board the Enterprise unless he is showing no improvement in the next six months.”

McCoy jumped in. “And, as the health professional on board, I have the ability to be Jim’s counselor if he so chooses. No matter who on board counsels him, we will do everything possible to show that he has improved to some extent at his six month evaluation. Either that, or we can prove that his condition will worsen if we send him off the Enterprise. Spock and I have been talking about this for a while. Jim needs this to happen, but we really do all have to be on board because there’s a good chance that he’ll try and fight this.”

The table once more nodded. Everyone stood the severity of the situation. Now, it was up to Spock to deliver the news.

Ultimately, it had been Spock’s decision to call the meeting and make it all official. It was just so difficult for him to watch Jim in pain. Their quarters were connected and with Spock’s heightened sense of hearing, he knew all of the problems that Jim was going through. He knew he wasn’t sleeping; how he would stay up all night, pacing and crying. On a couple of occasions, he even broke a few things. Just listening to it all, Spock was sure one of the things that broke was his heart.

It was an interesting thing, heartbreak. Spock had never understood it. His mother had told him all about the emotions that he would experience in his life. Told him that he may even experience love. Spock remembers asking her multiple times throughout his childhood what love felt like. Because of her descriptions, Spock was unsure it was something he ever wanted to feel: the words she would use were negative and painful. Dark words, including the one she used most often: heartbreak.

_”Mother, what is heartbreak?” Spock had asked one day after hearing her use the word for the twelfth time. He was still unable to figure it out from contextual clues._

_The look his mother had given him was sad, pensive. “Take a seat, Spock.”_

_Sitting down in front of her, Spock knew it was a serious topic. She usually answered his questions with straightforward answers, as Vulcans typically do. No emotion involved, even while speaking about emotions. But, heartbreak seemed to be different in so many ways._

_“Heartbreak is when you love someone and things don’t work out because of some reason or other.”_

_Spock was confused. Why would it ‘not work out’ as his mother had put it? “But, if you love someone, would it not be logical to bond with them?”_

_“Lots of reasons, Spock. Sometimes it may be unrequited love that may induce the heartbreak. It may be a tragedy, or a breakup.”_

_Thinking on her words for a moment, Spock only found himself with more questions. “What is a breakup?”_

_“A breakup is when two people are together romantically and then they stop being together romantically.”_

_“Such as when two Vulcans have their bond removed by a Mind Healer? Is that a breakup?”_

_His mother made a face that told Spock his analogy was only somewhat accurate. “I would call that more of a divorce, which is a type of breakup. You see, humans date casually. They test out romantic relationships before deciding to get married, which would be what a bond is closest to in human culture. While they are still dating, they are simply separate humans being together, both emotionally and legally. Then, when they get married, things are more serious and they generally aim to stay together for the rest of their life, like a bond. A divorce is when they breakup while married and it is much more complicated and can also happen for a number of reasons.”_

_The idea of ‘casual dating’ was incredibly new to Spock. Why would humans do such a thing? If a Vulcan dismissed a potential partner, it was because of mental incompatibility. Humans had no such stipulations. He assumed it was one of their emotional issues that he did not understand._

_“Why does heartbreak happen?” Was Spock’s next question. He wanted to know the science of it. “Does it kill humans?”_

_His mother chuckled at that. Her laughter was a strange sound, but Spock knew he liked it. It was comforting. “Heartbreak cannot technically be the cause of death. The heart does not actually break; it is simply a very strong emotion. Heartbreak happens because of loss. When you are heartbroken, you have lost something. You have lost the person’s influence on your life, or perhaps they have passed away and you have lost their love and companionship. Does it make sense, Spock?”_

_Spock took a moment before he answered. “Yes, Mother. I understand it logically, but I am not sure I will ever understand it emotionally.”_

_With a sad look in her eyes, his mother nodded. “I hope you never do, Spock.”_

He knew it was heartbreak. Not exactly as his mother had described, but parts of her explanation applied to this situation. Spock’s love was unrequited and he had lost something. Rather, Jim had lost something and it had led to Spock losing Jim: Jim had lost his spirit and what made him _him_. And Spock had lost Jim.

Maybe this would bring Jim back to himself.

Spock could only hope.

Reaching out with a tentative hand, Spock announced his arrival at Jim’s quarters and was granted passage inside. Upon opening the door, Spock could see Jim had just finished getting dressed for his shift. This was going to be difficult for both of them. Jim glanced at Spock and forced a smile in greeting.

Emotions are fascinating, and Spock found himself only confused as he learned more about them. When he saw Jim’s obviously forced smile, he had felt pain. Not a physical pain, but that was the only word he had to describe it. Was it the heartbreak? Spock had always pictured it as a one-time event, not a lasting pang that he felt in his side each time he saw Jim or thought about him. And he understood why it was called _heart_ break. The pain was always in his side— right where his heart was.

“Captain— Jim— We need to talk.”

Jim began walking over to grab his communicator. “Can we talk after our shift? We’re expected on the bridge.”

Spock pulled out a chair from the table in Jim’s quarters. “Sit down, Jim. It is simply a talk.”

Reluctantly, Jim pulled out the other chair, sinking in to it as if he knew what was coming. He forced a polite smile. “What’s this about, Spock?”

Spock stared at the wall behind Jim for a moment, building up his emotional walls. He couldn’t let them get the best of him. This was the logical answer, the logical route. He had to just come out and say it. “Jim, Doctor McCoy and I have reached the decision that you are no longer fit for duty.” Spock paused, allowing Jim the moment that he obviously needed.

Jim blinked, leaning back in his chair as if he had just been physically hit in the chest. “Spock, what the _fuck_?” Oh no. He was getting angry. “So just like—“ he snapped. “ _that_ , and you’re removing me from duty? What the fuck? Just out of nowhere?”

“Jim, you know why this is happening. You must have logically known given that recently you have been—“

“Been what?” Jim stood so fast he knocked over his chair. “Finally dealing with the shit that has happened in my life? And so maybe I’m a little depressed but I am not going to put this crew in danger!”

“Jim. Doctor McCoy and I are both aware of your suicidal tendencies and it is protocol to—“

_“I will not put this crew in danger, Spock.”_

Spock looked him dead in the eyes. “It is not the crew that I am worried about. Please, sit, so that we may finish this discussion.”

Eyes downcast and shaking his head, Jim picked up the chair and sat down in it again.

“Your leave of duty is effective immediately,” Spock explained, watching Jim watch the table. “You will see an on-board counselor of your choosing— Doctor McCoy is on that list but we both understand if you do not want to see him for personal reasons. After six months of this on-board counseling, you will have an outside evaluation for Starfleet with your counselor in which we will prove that you have made some improvement in the last six months.” Spock paused and Jim jumped right in.

“Does that mean that six months is the minimum until I can be Captain again?”

That bit was a tad tricky. “If you feel at any time that you have approved enough to be reinstated, you may request a physiological evaluation from your counselor that would then be sent to Starfleet for approval. Your counselor can, however, deny this motion if they believe you are not ready.”

“Then what’s the six month evaluation for?”

Spock took a moment to reinforce his walls. They were slipping. This was getting emotional. He did not want Jim to leave. “If it is unproven that you have made any progress in the first six months, you will be expected to leave the Enterprise—“

“What?” Jim’s head shot up. “No, Spock, they can’t make me do that.”

“They can, Jim. We will do everything to prove that you have gotten better in those six months and if that fails we can attempt to submit an appeal that sending you back to your home planet would rather be detrimental to your recovery.”

Jim slumped back, his hand coming up to his face. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he mumbled.

“Doctor McCoy has tried to approach you on multiple occasions about seeing a counselor and you have consistently refused. We are worried, Jim. We want you to get help.”

The fire in Jim’s eyes was suddenly back. Spock felt his heart jump in his side— maybe they didn’t need this after all.

But it was only anger.

And it hurt Spock deeper than Jim would ever know.

“You aren’t worried about me. You’re worried about what letting a suicidal captain run you ship will do to _your_ reputation. You’ve known about this much longer than Bones has. You could have done something months ago but that would be too _emotional_ for you. You don’t give a _shit_ about me as a person so don’t lie to my face, Spock.” Reaching up, Jim tore his command badge from his shirt and flung it at Spock, standing up and storming out of the room before another word was said.

Spock just stared down at the badge in his hands. Heartbroken. It was a constant pain. His mother was right— he wished he never had to experience it.

It was only a few days later that they passed each other in the halls. It was corridor that neither had any reason to be using, save for the large window that spanned the right side. Spock would come down here in specific times of turmoil to stare at the stares and contemplate if he had made the right decision. That was what he was intending to do now, but when he arrived, Jim was there, already staring out that same window.

The look on his face was sad, yet closed. His eyes weren’t searching the stars for an answer, but rather staring into the distance as if everything else would disappear.

Noticing Spock, he immediately looked to leave. The only exit was behind Spock. Jim walked past, not giving Spock a second glance as he went to left and Spock stayed right. The door to the turbo lift closed behind Jim. Turning, Spock looked to the galaxies for his answer.

Did Jim blame him? The thought made fear begin to bloom inside him. Why had he even come here?

Over the course of the next months, things were not improving. Jim locked himself inside of his quarters at all hours— once news had spread around the ship, he refused to leave, saying that people looked at him weird. He just wanted to be captain again.

McCoy was his counselor, naturally, and Jim refused to leave his quarters even for his visits with him, which were every other day. By all points, he was getting worse.

Jim’s insomnia was now ever-present. Spock could hear him thunking about at all hours— showering at 2am and the like. It troubled him, but he did not know what to do to help.

He had tried offering a game of chess one night. Jim had shut the door in his face, saying he wasn’t interested in chess.

Next, Spock had tried to invite Jim to eat dinner with him. Again, the door was shut in his face. Their rooms were connected and they hardly ever saw each other, hardly ever spoke.

If Spock had not been sure his heart was broken three months ago, he was sure now.

He was sitting in his quarters, meditating, when a crash from next door alerted him. It was substantial. Usually after a crash, Spock would listen for signs of movement that would tell him Jim was still alright. There were no such sounds this time.

Jumping up, he ran through their adjoining bathroom and into Jim’s quarters where he saw Jim lying on the floor, which was wet. As was Jim, as he had just finished taking another oddly-timed shower and was half-dressed and unconscious. He must have slipped on the floor and hit his head. Jim needed medical attention immediately.

Ignoring the fact that he was not wearing shoes and that Jim refused to leave his quarters, Spock scooped him up in his arms without a thought and took off down the corridors. As it was fairly late at night, they luckily did not encounter anyone in the halls.

What scared Spock the most was that the only sound he heard were the soft slaps of his feet against the tile. Jim was lying in his arms, breathing so faint it could not be heard over the sounds of Spock’s running.

He burst into sickbay, shocking M’Benga so bad that he dropped what he was holding. Spock did not notice, just rushed to lay Jim down on one of the beds. “The Cap— Jim is hurt. He seems to have sustained a head injury that rendered him unconscious and he is barely breathing.”

M’Benga nodded, and began taking Jim’s vitals. “Commander, would you get Doctor McCoy? He’s in his quarters.” Of course, they could have alerted McCoy without Spock leaving, but something told M’Benga that Spock would not just stand by, idle.

The Doctor’s quarters were just down the hall from sickbay— as close as he could get. Spock alerted his presence the door and heard muted mumbling from inside before the Doctor was standing in front of him, looking half asleep, but still in uniform. “Who the hell—“ He stopped short when he saw Spock. His eyes went wide and he stepped into the hallway, falling in time with Spock’s steps. “What happened to Jim?”

“He fell. He is unconscious.” That was all Spock could get out. All he wanted was to get back to Jim. He needed to see him, needed to be there and feel his pulse to be assured that Jim was still there. That he was alive. That Jim was going to be okay. Spock needed him to be.

Panic was mounting in his chest when they entered sickbay and Doctor McCoy began conferencing with M’Benga, reviewing the vital signs shown by the tricorder. As Spock watched, they rolled Jim onto his side and used the regenerator to work on fixing the cut on the back of his head.

Spock stared. He had not even noticed that Jim was bleeding but it was clear that he was: the pillow already had a deep plume of red blossoming on it. Looking down, Spock saw Jim’s blood on his hand and his shirt from carrying him.

Jim was bleeding. Jim had hit his head and was bleeding.

M’Benga placed a hand on his shoulder, shocking him back to the present. “Captain, I suggest you sit. You’re looking a little pale.”

In a daze, Spock nodded and brought a chair over to Jim’s bedside. Not too close so that M’Benga and McCoy could still have easy access as the began preparing hypos. But he needed to be near him.

One of the hypos went into Spock’s neck and he looked up at McCoy in shock. He shrugged in response. “You looked like you could use a little calming down.” He did calm down. It helped. But then, he would look back at Jim and panic would surge like a violent ocean wave, trying to drown him. He should meditate.

But he could not pull himself away.

It was not long before Doctor McCoy asked to see Spock in his office.

“Yes, Doctor?” Spock asked, as he sat down in the chair across from Leonard’s desk.

“Spock, as acting Captain, I believe you have a right to be informed now that something like this has happened.” McCoy folded his hands on his desk, clearly preparing for the conversation ahead.

“And what exactly is happening, Doctor?”

“You know Jim’s depressed. You know he is potentially suicidal. But, between his counseling sessions and this, I believe he is being intentionally reckless. Meaning, he sees danger and makes an active decision to test the limits. This has been going on for a while now and it’s typically just small things that don’t hurt him too bad like not blowing on his soup that’s too hot. Small things that normal people would do to keep from harm or discomfort. The slipping because he didn’t dry off after getting out of the shower is one of them. But, Spock, my suspicions have now been confirmed.”

Spock didn’t like where this was going and the longer Leonard talked, the more anxiety mounted in his chest. “What suspicions?”

“I’ve been worried that Jim’s been self harming, but it’s only been suspicions, as I had no reason to force a physical checkup on him. But....Well, you probably saw it when you found him, seeing as he isn’t wearing a shirt.”

Jim was hurting himself? But, why? That was...illogical. It would go against every self-preservation and evolutionary instinct that someone would— “What are you assuming that I saw, Doctor?”

“Most of Jim’s scar as from past traumas. The ones on his arms? Most have been there since before I knew him. But there are fresh ones. Probably opened in the last 24 hours, at least. Not to mention, burn marks.”

McCoy kept talking but Spock did not hear him. He sat back in his chair and he it felt like the world was spinning. Like he was on a planet that’s rotation was so different to Vulcan’s that he could actually feel its turning. Except, now he was on the Enterprise. There was no rotation. Spock was even sitting down. The only thing spinning was the room.

It did not make any sense. Why would someone do that? Why would _Jim_ do that? It was illogical. Yes, Spock knew that humans did illogical things but this was....Spock had never encountered this before. His brain could not make sense of it.

Slowly, he stood. “Doctor, I must meditate.” His walls were slipping like he was an uncontrolled child again. “Please alert me when Jim awakens.”

“Of course, Spock,” came the Doctor’s reply, but Spock didn’t hear it.

He passed Jim, pausing to look at him and wonder. Then, he forced himself to move on. He needed to meditate or these emotions were going to overwhelm him.

The moment he entered his quarters, they felt wrong. His skin was already prickling with the cold of numbness and the warmth of the room was shocking. Taking a look around, the chaos of what had happened was apparent.

His meditation mat had slid halfway across the room in his haste to get up and run to Jim. The door to the bathroom hung open on its hinges, Jim’s door mirroring it. And on the other side he could see the small, wet pool where Jim had slipped and fallen.

Spock’s feet were moving before he could stop them. He reached the puddle, kneeling down next to it and noticing the small patch of blood where Jim’s head had contacted with the hard floor. It’s aight made Spock nearly sick and he took a few steadying breaths.

Standing, Spock walked back through to his quarters to retrieve a towel that he then used to wipe up the water on Jim’s floor. When the towel reached the red dots, he paused. Something in him could not tear his eyes away. Had Jim done this on purpose?

It was ‘intentionally reckless,’ as Leonard had called it. Jim did things that would specifically put him in danger. Spock just did not understand. Just like the— self harm.

Wiping away the last of the blood, Spock stood, contemplating. He should never go through his Captain’s things for any reason. It did not matter that Jim was not currently acting Captain— he would be Captain in Spock’s heart forever. Nothing would change that. On top of that, Jim was Spock’s friend and he should respect his privacy and not search through his things.

But if Jim was in danger....

Spock was good at purging himself of emotions, so he simply buried each piece of guilt that he felt as he began digging through Jim’s drawers, making sure to put everything back as he had found it. What he was looking for, he did not know exactly. Anything with sharp points, maybe?

In the third drawer, he found a pocket knife. Setting it aside, Spock continued through his search. In the fifth drawer, a razor— smartly hidden inside of a sock. In the nightstand, a lighter which Jim was not even supposed to have on board. He would have had to tamper with the smoke alarms to even use this without being caught, which was a high violation of Starfleet rules. How long had he had this?

After finishing his check of the room, Spock had only found those three things. Once more, Spock pushed away the guilt as he confiscated the items and returned to his own quarters to meditate.

Folding himself on the mat, he sank into his own mind. He needed to be in control and this was shaking him to his core.

Inside, his mind was dark. Like he needed to turn on a light. Sinking in to this darkness, he took a breath and it felt like ice water in his lungs. Cold seeped into his veins. He sunk deeper into his mind, past the cold layer to what was underneath.

It was like breaking through the surface of a lake as he dove deeper, past the frigid waters and into the next layer of his psyche. Even if the surface layer was numb, the second should have been exploding in color. Instead, Spock felt like he was falling into an abyss, a small tunnel of blue light in the distance the only recognizable piece of his mind.

The falling stopped suddenly, like he had fallen out of the lake and been thrust into a dark room and had now hit the floor. This was strange. Something was wrong. By now, Spock should be seeing all of his colors, all of the emotions. But only this icy blue in the distance remained.

He ran for it, panic mounting. What would happen if he didn’t get there? It seemed to be fading and Spock was getting no closer. He ran for what felt like hours, exhausting himself. The mind should not be exhausting to relax into.

The ice blue tunnel crept closer, but Spock already felt like he was going to collapse. But he must press on. This was wrong. Dangerous.

Like a of breath of life, he reached the light and it enveloped him at once, tumbling him into the third level of his psyche. Here, things should be starting to take forms— he should see the influences of his emotions. But the blue tunnel spit him out onto a dark planet, shrouded in mist. The blue light had not left.

Once more, Spock knew he should follow it. His psyche was being vague for a reason and he needed find out why. For his own sake.

The light moved slowly, and Spock walked beside it, feeling sand underneath his feet. It was soft, grainy, but did not stick to his feet when he lifted them. The blue moved just ahead of him, guiding and illuminating the mist as he walked. This level usually showed him Vulcan, objects that were troubling his emotions would appear there. Perhaps this was the Vulcan desert, but it felt different. And, maybe it was the strange color, but when the light illuminated the sand it looked like a black powder.

Suddenly, the light stopped. Spock edged forward, but saw no difference in his surroundings. The mist was everywhere and the blue glow cast only a small ring around him. Was he supposed to venture into the mist?

He walked to the edge of the ring of light, reaching a hand out in front of him, into the mist where he could not see. The mist left light dewdrops on his fingers and palm, which chilled in the air. Maybe this was not the intention of the light.

Spock began to step back when a warm hand grasped his and yanked him fully into the fog. It came fast and Spock stumbled, his eyes having to adjust to the dark. And there, attached to his hand was Jim.

The look in his eyes was frantic, pained. Desperate. His mouth was moving, yelling words at Spock and Spock wanted to help, he did. But he could not hear Jim. He could not hear how to help him. Spock leaned forward, trying to make out the words Jim was saying, but it was of no use. It was too dark inside the mist.

Desperate, Spock attempted to pull Jim back to the light where he would be able to see him fully. As he took a step away, Jim’s hand fell out of his. Crying out, Spock lunged forward, his hand chasing Jim’s, but the sand underneath him drained out, dropping him to the fourth level of his psyche.

The fourth level should have revealed to Spock solutions. Should have given him answers. Instead, he was dropped into a white room— blinding bright— in a pile of sand that came with him. There, ahead of Spock was a boy. He knew he needed to go to him; his psyche was showing this for a reason.

Spock stood, not needing to brush the sand off of himself, as it was the strange sand from above. The boy was sitting with his back to Spock, seemingly hugging his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth. Not wanting to scare the child, Spock crept forward carefully.

As he got closer, Spock was able to hear the boy’s soft sobs and sniffles. He did not know this child, but his heart ached in his side.

Making his way around to the front of the child, Spock was able to see his face. His eyes were red and puffy and his bottom lip was split. Upon seeing Spock, he startled and scrambled back. He was small, seemingly too small for his age.

Reaching out a hand to show he was not a danger, Spock spoke. _”Nam-uh hayal, pi-veh.”_

The child was still leaning back from him, his face obstructed partially by his knees. “Calm down, little one,” he repeated, hand still outstretched. “I will not hurt you. You are safe here.”

With a shaky sob, the little boy unfolded himself and began to lean towards Spock. It was then that Spock recognized his features: his blue eyes and his blonde hair mixed with all the features of a young Jim. Just as young Jim’s hands were mere inches away from Spock, he was thrust out of his own mind.

Fully present now back in his room, Spock heaved in breaths. That was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Meditation had never been like that. It was meant to be calming and aid him in sorting through things— to help his psyche heal and process emotions. But that...that shook Spock to his core. In every level of his psyche, he was chasing Jim and there was no solution that he could see.

Then, an alert came from his padd. Checking it, Spock realized that Doctor McCoy had been alerting Spock that Jim was about to wake. It was what had brought him out of his meditation.

Springing up, Spock found that he had to steady himself for a moment before making his way back to sickbay. That meditation had really thrown him off, instead of centering him.

When he walked into sickbay, Jim was not yet awake. Doctor McCoy, however, took one look at Spock and made him sit down. “What the hell have you been doing, Spock? You look ill.”

“I was meditating, Doctor.”

Leonard shuffled in his drawers and cabinets, looking through different hypos and things. “Your pulse high or low?”

“High, Doctor.”

Nodding, the Doctor took one of the hypos out and came at Spock with it held high. “This should help.”

It was just when Spock was beginning to feel the calming effects of the hypo that Jim began to stir. At his groan, Spock’s head swiveled in his direction and he stood to be at Jim’s bedside, which received him a scowl from Leonard.

Jim reached a hand up to his head, groaning once more before cracking his eyes open.

“Spock?” Blue eyes stared up at Spock and he felt his heart seemingly stutter in his side. Was that normal? “What happened?”

“You slipped and fell and hit your head.”

“Yeah,” came Leonard’s gruff voice. “M’Benga and the hobgoblin woke me up to come look at you. How bad does it hurt?”

Jim had turned to look at McCoy, one hand still pressed to his head. “It’s throbbing but don’t you dare stick me with another one of those things.”

“I know you don’t like hypos, Jim, but I can stop your headache.”

“Bones, don’t _touch_ me,” Jim said with more aggression than he usually did when speaking to his friend.

Leonard held up his hands. “Hey, alright. I won’t.”

Jim stood up abruptly, swaying but not reaching out to steady himself. “I’m going back to—“

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Bones, I am going back to—“

“You’ve got a concussion and I have medical approval to keep you here for observing for the next two days.”

Jim spun to look at Leonard, obviously angry. “ _Two days?_ Bones, just let me go back to my quarters for fuck’s sake, I—“

“We also have to talk about those.” Jim froze as Leonard pointed to his torso: arms littered with thin, white lines and faint burn marks. His arms crossed immediately over his chest, hugging himself.

Eyes wide and shameful, his gaze flicked to Spock’s before darting back down to the ground. Spock’s side ached at the look Jim threw him: it was like Jim expected him to push him away with disgust and contempt.

With a jolt, Spock realized that there was a good chance that was exactly what Jim expected of him.

He felt like putting his head in his hands. He was not trying hard enough with Jim. Of course he did not want to play chess: depression causes you to lose interest in things that you previously found appealing. And maybe he rejected Spock because of a fear of rejection that he harbored— you cannot be rejected if you do not let anyone in.

Spock resolved to be better. He would look into psychological journals on depression and he would attempt more. He would try everything.

Spock’s attention jumped back to the moment when Jim spoke, his tone guarded. “There’s nothing to talk about, Bones.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit with me, Jim.”

“Bones, I—“

“If you don’t talk to me, how am I supposed to tell Starfleet in three months that you’re getting better?” Jim looked taken aback by Leonard’s statement. It was as if he had not expected this at all. “I can’t lie to them, Jim. I’ve lied to Starfleet for you before, but this is serious. They’ll be conducting their own mental health examination and reviewing my notes from our session. Do you want to stay on the Enterprise or not, Jim?”

There was a fire in Jim’s eyes once more. But once more, it was simply anger. “I never wanted to leave in the first place. I was just going through a rough patch and I would have been fine but then _you two_ —“ He threw a judgmental point in Spock’s direction, not bothering to look that way and so he missed the look of hurt that flashed briefly across Spock’s face.

“Jim, don’t start that.” Leonard cut him off. “You were worse than you have been in years and we still haven’t figured out what triggered it. If you’ve decided you’re ready to tell me what caused you to spiral into your own head, then maybe we can work on showing some improvement. Your time is half up, Kirk.”

Jim was staring at the floor once more, shaking his head slightly. “It’s not something I want to talk about.”

“Maybe talking about it will get it out of your head.”

At that, Jim’s head snapped up, eyes meeting McCoy’s. “Talking about it makes it real. And I would have been fine. I would have gotten over it just like I always do. Bones, you know I’ve cycled through depression in the past, but it comes and goes. Now, you’ve thrown off my schedule and my emotional—“

Leonard took a step forward. “You’re the one locking yourself up in your quarters and refusing company. Hell, you won’t even talk to _Spock_. That’s how I knew it was bad.” Another step and he was within reach of Jim. “And no matter how it’s been in the past, it’s never been bad enough that your started doing _this_ again.” The Doctor reached forward, taking Jim by the wrist and wrenching his arm away from his body, holding it out to indicate the self harm marks.

It was more than Spock could take. That look in Jim’s eyes— the shame mixed with protectiveness of one’s own scars— has Spock turning and crossing the room, away from Jim and McCoy.

He opened a closet towards the front of sickbay, retrieving a medical garment and walking back over to Jim, who was once more hugging his arms against his chest. Spock could not handle this anymore and he held the shirt out to Jim, indicating that he take it.

Their eyes met for a brief moment and Spock nearly began to cry at the vacancy in them. Jim’s eyes were always so vibrant and expressive— like most humans’, only more intense with their ice blue color. The same color that had been laced through his meditation. But now, they were dull, bright only in their color and not in the emotions behind them.

That was when it clicked in Spock. His mind had showed him the answer, as the fourth layer of his psyche was supposed to: Jim as a child. This had all been triggered by something in his childhood. Logically, Spock knew it, but the information was for some reason not readily available to him.

Jim’s hand reached out and gingerly took the shirt, pulling it over his head and stretching the sleeves down past his arms, conscious of the other eyes in the room. It seemed paradoxical to Spock: Jim was clearly ashamed by others knowing about and seeing the scars, but it was clear that did not mean he intended to stop. Well, Spock may have taken care of that, at least partially. If he was unable to understand how to care for Jim on an emotional level, he would learn to care for him on a psychical one.

After McCoy was able to convince Jim to stay in sickbay for at least that night for observation, Spock left to retire back to his quarters. There was much he needed to do.

Entering the warmth of his room, it still felt off like last time. Like his body was trying to tell him something, but Spock was unable to receive the message. Walking over to his padd, Spock settled into the chair, preparing to find anything that could help Jim.

First, he investigated what his mind had shown him: Jim’s childhood. Navigating through Starfleet, he was able to find Jim’s file with ease. He opened it and began to read everything listed there.

Or, rather, skim it as he knew most of the information by heart— both from reading Jim’s file so many times and by being friends with him.

He knew Jim was born to George and Winona Kirk on the USS Kelvin and was raised alongside his brother in Riverside, Iowa. Spock knew that Winona had married a man named Frank and promptly left to a three year mission for Starfleet, leaving Sam and Jim alone with Frank.

Something in Spock’s blood darkened at the thoughts of what he knew about Frank. Jim had mentioned before in casual conversations how Frank was abusive. Maybe there was more to it that had led Jim down this path?

But that did not seem right, as Jim was fully able to talk about what had happened with Frank and there was not anything that the Enterprise had encountered recently that would have triggered any of those memories.

Spock continued reading Jim’s file until he reached the point he had always been unnaturally curious about and a small pit formed in his stomach.

There was a section of Jim’s file that was restricted. Spock had never read it before, despite his curiously, out of respect for Jim’s privacy. He had no idea what it was, but it occurred in Jim’s timeline from ages ten to thirteen. That was the age of the boy his psyche had shown him. Ten.

His brain must have just picked up on that restricted section of the file and manifested it as some sort of a guess. It was simply the only speculation his mind had to go off of.

That did not mean Spock had to look at it.

If he wanted to, he was perfectly capable of hacking into Starfleet’s system and finding out what that file said. Few could do it, sure, but it was possible. Especially if you knew some of the insider codes. Spock could. If he really wanted to, that is.

But, no he must not. He had already violated Jim’s trust once today by searching through his things without his permission. As much as Spock tried to push the guilt away, it was still there, lying under the surface because it was not right. But it was what Jim needed. Spock had a duty to keep his Captain safe— even if he was not technically his Captain. He would always be Captain in Spock’s eyes, no matter what happened three months from now and damn if Spock was going to let Jim put himself in danger. He vowed to do whatever it took, even if it was emotionally difficult for him.

Spock considered meditating once more. Maybe his psyche would return to normal and show him all of the things he was dealing with right now, emotionally, not simply this mystery surrounding Jim. But no. Because Spock knew that if he saw that child once again, he would hack into Starfleet and uncover that restricted piece of Jim’s past. And he would not do that.

At least...not tonight.

Jim was most likely asleep by now. Part of Spock wished to check on him. To go down to sickbay even though he had been there a matter of minutes ago. That was extremely illogical. He was in competent, medical hands. There was nothing that would be helpful from Spock making a trip down there.

It was this heartbreak that he was experiencing. The more he was away from Jim, the stronger he experienced it when he was finally around Jim. Just finding his eyes could bring tears to Spock’s. The pain was nearly unbearable. It was then that Spock knew what he must do about all of this:

Call his mother.

If anyone would be able to provide him counsel on the emotions he was processing, it was her. There was no one else he felt comfortable speaking to about it.

Quickly, he sent her a message on his padd, asking if she was free to set up a holovid time after his shift tomorrow before he set the padd down and decided tonight was a night to sleep. Yes, tonight, of all nights, Spock required fully human sleep.

__________

Jim burst through their adjoined door, startling Spock out of his slumber. He had been sleeping deep— had not even heard Jim enter, which was unusual. And he had been dreaming. Strange. But, there was not time to think about that now, as Jim was standing before him, yelling.

“Where’s my shit? Did you take my shit, Spock? Did you go through my room and take my things? I want them back.”

Ah. Yes. Spock sat up and turned to face Jim. How was he going to handle this? He could not lie to Jim— he obviously knew that someone had confiscated his things.

“You will not get them back and, in exchange, I will not inform Starfleet that you tampered with the smoke alarms in your room.”

Jim looked taken aback by what Spock had said. “You can’t just take my things, Spock. You can’t just go through my room. I can’t believe you would do that. Why?”

“It is part of my job to protect you from harm.”

“Not like that, Spock. That’s an invasion of my privacy.”

Spock stood cautiously. “Jim, you must understand that—“

“No, you don’t get to tell me how to live my life.”

“Jim, as an outsider to the situation I am able to—“

“Oh, because you know best, don’t you?” There was ice in Jim’s voice. “Spock with all his logic is able to know better than I do, isn’t he?”

“I will not permit you to harm yourself while on this ship if I have the ability to stop it.”

Jim took a step forward, his body posture threatening: leaning forward, hands gesturing. “You don’t understand it, Spock. I don’t _feel_ anything. That may be ideal for you, but for me it’s hell. I don’t know how to cope. I just want to feel something; I don’t care if it’s pain. I just want _something_. So I don’t give a fuck if it’s not permitted on your ship. Give me my things back.”

“Jim, you are right. I do not understand what you are going through. But you are—“

“Am I doing anything wrong?” The air hung tense for a moment. “Besides tampering with the smoke alarm, have I broken any rules? Because it feels like you’re accusing me of something. Just tell me what it is.”

Murder. Jim was commuting his own murder. His own death. And with it, shattering Spock’s heart. Which, rather, was not a crime but simply something Spock was trying to prevent as much as possible.

“Not breaking rules does not mean you are innocent. Harming yourself is—“

Jim cut him off once more. “Where are my things, Spock?” His voice was resigned. Jim did not want to continue this conversation any longer, that was for sure.

Spock closed his eyes for a brief moment, a small sigh passing through him. He had made a commitment to try and do everything he could to help Jim, but it seemed like his helping was pushing Jim away and making him resent him. What was he supposed to do? How could he help Jim?

Opening his eyes, he spoke to Jim. “I will not give you your things back, Jim.” Before the sentence was finished, Jim had turned and walked back into his quarters, firmly shutting two sets of doors behind him.

Spock sunk back down onto the bed. He was hopeless at this.

From his side, his padd alerted him of a message. Taking it, he saw that his mother had responded to him. She was free to speak to him today. That was a relief, and something he could look forward to. He needed her counsel on what to do.

Checking the time, Spock saw that he had ample time to meditate once more, so he stood and folded himself onto his meditation mat. Just like last time, the first layer of Spock’s psyche was cold, numbing his body. It was black.

Needing to escape, he pushed himself down and broke through to the second layer.

Once more, he could see nothing but the blue light in the distance: the blue that was the color of Jim’s eyes. And again, he chased it, stumbling from the exhaustion in his legs and lungs until he was able to reach the light. However, this time the light was not welcoming to his presence. When he reached it, it stabbed through him, causing him to cry out in pain. He was unsure if he had done this out loud as well.

The blue light consumed him, thrashing his body. This was not right. His own mind should not be hurting him.

Spitting him out, the blue light cast Spock into the third level, which was still the same as last time. The strange sand that did not stick to skin and the mist that covered what should have been Vulcan, illuminated in a small circle by the blue light. However, as Spock stood, the light left him to wander through the mist.

Once again, Spock found Jim. But it was different. Jim’s screaming was obviously not in help this time. It was in defense. As if Spock had hurt him. He shied away from Spock’s hands as they reached out and he ran.

On the first step Spock to chase after Jim, the ground once more let out beneath him as dropped him into the white room of the fourth level of his psyche.

The boy was there, his back still to Spock. This time, Spock could hear his soft sobs from where he landed. Carefully, Spock crept up to the boy and came face to face with him.

Young Jim’s shoulders hunched over themselves as he sat, holding his legs to his chest. He was bone thin, and terrified, his eyes darting this way and that as if scouting for danger. Spock told himself to not let the last levels shake him. This was the Jim he needed to speak to. This was where the answers were and young Jim needed to trust him. “ _Nam-uh hayal, pi-veh,_ ” he related, same as last time, reaching out a gentle hand to the child.

What he had done last time had worked; he had been brought out of his meditation by the alert from his padd. He must try again. “Calm down, little one. I will not hurt you. You are safe here.”

Young Jim stared at Spock’s outstretched hand, considering before he released the death grip on his own shins. Trepidation clear in his eyes, the boy reached forward, his hand inches from Spock’s now.

This was it. This was all he needed. Spock knew he needed to get this boy to trust him, to take his hand.

But the boy froze, his eyes jumping to Spock’s again.

“How do I know you aren’t tricking me?” Despite the tear tracks on his face and the way his hands were shaking, his voice was defiant.

Spock answered immediately with the logical response. “Vulcans do not lie.”

“All people lie.”

The hands still sat in the air, hovering. Inches.

“I am not lying to you, Jim. You are safe here. I will not hurt you.”

Young Jim began to withdraw into himself again, Spock watching as his small hand slowly drew back to his chest.

“I don’t trust you.”

Spock’s hand remained where it was, showing his offer. “Let me prove it to you.”

Fear flashed through young Jim’s eyes. As he opened his mouth to speak, Spock was once more thrown from his own mind.

What was the problem this time? Nothing had intentionally pulled him out. And why was he not able to achieve the fifth and final level of his psyche in order to obtain mental peace?

Why was his meditation not helping him?

Standing, he shook it off mentally. He could not let it bother him. He had a job to do.

Or, rather, two. One, his shift in the bridge would be starting soon and two, he had to help Jim in any way possible. But, still, he could not escape the nagging feeling that the answer to helping Jim was in his mind. That child.

Glancing one more at the padd, Spock quelled the urge to hack into the restricted section of Jim’s file. He could not. Jim was already upset about Spock invading his privacy. If he wanted to preserve their friendship, it was in Spock’s best interest to not do so again.

But maybe Spock’s friendship with Jim was not the important part. If there was something he could do that would help Jim he should do it. Even if it meant losing him as a friend, right?

Or, perhaps Spock had already done that. Perhaps by relieving Jim of duty because it was what was best for him had already led to he and Jim not being friends.

Maybe he had already lost Jim.

Emotion welled up in Spock and he had to shut his eyes to keep it from bubbling up. The heartbreak was getting to him.

But for now— he opened his eyes— Spock had a job to do.

"Keptin on the bridge," announced Chekov as Spock stepped off of the turbolift. However, Spock was able to note that recently Chekov's announcement had been made with less and less enthusiasm. As if every day was a day farther away from Jim being Captain and it was grating on him. In fact, it seemed to be affecting the morale of all of the crew. This worried Spock; he knew he had their support initially, but maybe now they were having their doubts.

He told himself that it did not matter. He was Captain and he and Doctor McCoy had agreed on this. This was what was best for Jim.

News of what had happened last night clearly had gotten around the ship. Nyota was the one they all glanced to to ask the question. They wanted to know the details: was Jim alright. It made sense. He was the Captain they were used to, after all, and the entire senior crew cared for each other deeply. Like they were family.

All was quiet on the bridge until finally, Nyota spoke up. "Captain, how is Kirk doing? We heard he was in sickbay last night."

At her words, the rest of the bridge crew swiveled to listen to Spock. Chekov especially had pleading eyes. They all wanted to know that Jim was okay: that he was getting better instead of worse. Naturally, they may have debated about whether or not Jim had attempted suicide. That seemed to be what they were worried about.

“Last night," Spock began. "Jim sustained an accidental head injury when he slipped and his head hit the ground. Doctor McCoy kept him overnight for observation as a result of his mild concussion.”

A breath of relief seemed to wash through the room. The tension left Sulu's shoulders and Chekov's eyes lit up. "So the Ca-- Kirk will be alright, then?" The excited young ensign asked.

Spock had not failed to notice Chekov's slip up and the crew looked at him to see if he would make note of it. But, no. Spock understood. Jim was Captain in his mind as well. Spock suspected that even if it came to Jim leaving the ship in three months, they would still all make that mistake for the rest of their five year mission.

And then Spock felt like he could barely breathe when it occurred to him: if Jim was removed from the ship in three months, Spock would not see him for a year. He would not be able. The Enterprise would continue on her mission with Spock as Captain and a new First Officer would be assigned by Starfleet. It simply did not feel right for the Enterprise to be Captained by anyone other than Jim Kirk.

“I am sure he will fine, Ensign," came Spock's reply, showing no indication of the emotions he was feeling.

With that confirmation, the crew returned to their work, which was rather quiet. Exploring was not always full of near-death encounters. For now, things were steady.

Yet, the hours crawled by as Spock awaited his conference with his mother. He truly needed her guidance-- on multiple topics.

At the end of his shift, Spock could barely control himself with how fast he was trying to make his way to his quarters. He was so restless and on edge-- the inability to find calm from his mediation was making him anxious and, well, to use a human phrase...moody.

Sitting down in his quarters with his padd, he at once attempted to contact his mother. Luckily, the connection came through without much wait.

His mother's brown hair and soft eyes looked back at him from his screen. "Spock," she greeted and even though she had no physical presence near him, he could feel the love coming through to him. "What's going on? Your message seemed urgent. Is everything alright?"

Naturally, his mother was aware of the situation with Jim, but not all of it. She knew that he had to remove Jim from duty, but he had yet to speak to her about his feelings towards his Cap-- Jim. And now-- when he was suddenly confronted with the opportunity to tell her-- he found himself unable to do so. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to tell her that--

“Mother, I think I am in love with Jim."

For a moment, she looked taken aback by the statement, but underneath she was still calm. "What makes you say that, Spock?"

“Well..." He hesitated a moment before making an addendum to his earlier statement. "I do not think I am in love with Jim, I know I am in love with Jim. I have been for a very long time, in fact. I believe since before his death. And, Mother, I am wholly emotionally unprepared to cope with Jim's depression and suicidal tendencies."

His mother softened around the eyes. "Oh, Spock. I'm sure that can't be easy. Especially since you had to be the one to remove him from duty."

Spock could not handle it any longer. Between the lack of satisfying meditation and the adoring look of his mother, he could not. Tears began to well up in his eyes and it was so human so utterly human, but he could not hold it back. "Mother, I believe Jim may hate me."

“No, Spock." Illogically, his mother reached out a hand as if to comfort him physically, despite the fact that he was at the edges of the known galaxy and she was on New Vulcan. "He doesn't hate you."

“I believe he does."

“Honey. Jim is going through a rough time right now and his emotions are not what they usually are. He may be trying to push you away because..." She seemed to struggle with her words for a moment. "Spock, you know that when people are depressed, they begin to see things differently. And one of the ways that manifests is by pushing people away because they don't want to burden others with their problems. If Jim is being cold to you, I wouldn't take it personally. He will get better, but the road to that may be hard and he needs you to stand by him no matter how he pushes you away because it helps prove to him that you care about him. Depressed people oftentimes have difficulty believing that others could ever truly care for them, or that they are unlovable--"

“But I love him. If I tell him that I--"

His mother cut him off, a sharp look in her eyes. "Spock, telling someone you love them does not cure depression. A new relationship does not cure depression. Each person must deal with it in their own way, on their own time. Do not try to force it. And do not try to fix him. You can try to help him, but do not enter into this with the mindset that you can fix it. It will only further Jim's feeling that he is broken. Does that make sense?"

Spock hesitated, unsure of what she would make of the next part. "But, Mother, I may actually be able to fix him." Her face turned angry and he continued before she could get mad. "Lately, my meditation has been strange and unfamiliar."

Her eyebrows knotted; all her anger was seemingly gone and replaced by concern. "Strange how, Spock?"

He dove into telling her about how the levels were not showing him all of what they should be: his mind was acting strange. "Every part of my mind seems to be dedicated to Jim. That is why I think it is trying to show me something. Especially..." Especially the boy. Young Jim. But he did not tell her that. “And it is not behaving like usual. Everything is out of the ordinary.”

His mother sighed. “Well, I think you’re right that your mind is trying to show you something although, it could just be that you’re caught up in your thoughts of Jim.”

“I have considered that.”

There was a small pause in which Spock stared into his mother’s kind eyes. “What are you not telling me, Spock?” Ah, she always could tell with him. He should have known he would not be able to hide it from her.

“I have not been able to reach the fifth and final level of my psyche to bring myself peace,” he said carefully, still not particularly keen on telling her about young Jim and the restricted section of the file.

“Why not?” It appeared there was no way around the topic.

Spock took a deep breath. “Mother, in fourth level....Well, I suppose I have been stuck. I see Jim.” She nodded. Spock was unsure how to continue. But he was sure she would not judge him for anything he told her. “Jim is a child and he is frightened and crying. Somehow, I know I need to get him to trust me to reach peace for myself and possibly for peace with Jim.”

His mother thought on this for a moment. “Do you know why he’s frightened?”

There. There was the real issue, was it not?

“Not exactly. However, I think there is a way for me to find out. The child is at the right age.” Spock was fumbling over his words, sounding like he was talking to himself. He started again. “There is a restricted section of Jim’s file from a time of his childhood that the young Jim in my mind would be from.”

The unspoken confession hung with the information: Spock wanted to hack it and find out, but it would be a direct violation of Jim’s privacy, and he was already upset about that. Maybe his mother would provide him counsel.

“Did you know about this restricted section before you started seeing the child?”

“Yes,” Spock confirmed.

“Then there is a chance that your mind is unable to find any solutions and is offering this to you as a hypothesis. It does not mean that it is a sure reason. Spock,” she leaned forward as she spoke. “Don’t let your curiosity get the best of you. Hacking into Starfleet’s restricted files is not allowed. We both know you could do it, but that doesn’t mean that you should.”

In Spock’s heart a protesting _but_ immediately swelled and he found it leaving his mouth. “But, Mother, what if it _could_ help Jim and I—“

“Are you willing to take that risk?”

Silence hung heavy after her question. She was right. If Spock hacked into Starfleet’s records he would be risking not only his captaincy but it would most likely be the official end of his friendship with Jim, should he find out.

But should not Jim’s safety outweigh Spock’s personal want to keep Jim as a friend, as well as escape reprimand from Starfleet? Was that truly logical when Jim’s life was concerned? Spock was unsure and she voiced this to his mother as well.

She folded her hand solemnly, listening to him. “I understand what you’re saying. But, you are also grasping at straws trying to find every single excuse you could have to hack into that file. No matter your reasons, it will still boil down to that question: are you willing to risk it, Spock?”

Exhaling a silent sigh through his nose, Spock knew she was right. Of course she was. He had came to her seeking counsel and she had provided it. Just because it was not what Spock wanted to hear did not mean that he could be upset and try to argue the point. He had asked her thoughts and she had given them. That was all.

Nodding, Spock assented to her point. The conversation continued on for a while after that, straying away from the topic of Jim to other things. But, eventually, Spock wished to end it, telling his mother he wished to meditate once more.

“I have not been able to find any rest in my own mind recently, Mother. I require meditation or, if that fails me once more, sleep.”

The kind eyes of his mother’s met his. “Right, yes. I love you, Spock. Know that.”

“Of course I am aware, Mother.” He did not understand her meaning. Why did she say it so differently this time, as if it carried more weight than usual?

They signed off, his mother making him promise to talk to her again if he began to change his mind about the file.

Once the conversation was over, Spock sat debating with himself about what he should do. Should he attempt to meditate again, or should he simply sleep? Maybe he should try to talk to Jim. He did not know and before he could come to a decision, sleep overtook him.

For the first time since he was a child, Spock dreamt.

And, of course, it was Jim.

All of the things Spock was feeling became manifested in his dreams. He would hold Jim and tell him that everything was going to be fine and Jim would talk and explain his feelings and Spock would be able to understand them and then provide Jim aid.

This continued for the next three months, and Spock made no progress with either the real Jim or the one in his dreams.

Or the young one in his mind.

Spock sat up, fresh from sleep but still exhausted. For the past three months, he had not been able to rest. His mind was torturing him: blocking him from the fifth level where he could find peace.

Every day, Spock attempted to coax the child into taking his hand. The reactions varied and Spock tried different approaches each time. Sometimes, Jim would simply put his hands over his ears and scream or cry or both. Other times, he would get violent and begin to attack Spock. Naturally, Spock never fought him.

The need to know what was in the restricted section of Jim’s file was pulling at him more and more every day.

Jim had not left his quarters since he had been released from sickbay after falling. Spock had not seen him since the confrontation, either. Not to say that he had not tried, but Jim would not let him into his quarters.

After a month of that, Spock had stopped trying.

So here they were, a day away from Jim’s official Starfleet evaluation.

Spock had a meeting with Doctor McCoy that morning to review how the interview would be conducted. They were docked at a large space station; most of the crew were preparing themselves for shore leave. Leonard would accompany Jim to a Starfleet office in which the interview would be conducted. From there, Jim would either return to the Enterprise or be placed on a vessel headed back to Earth where he would be registered as a civilian.

Out of all of the human emotions Spock had encountered, hope was the most illogical. Nevertheless, he felt so much of it that it pained him.

When he entered Doctor McCoy’s office, Leonard was already sitting at his desk, his face grim. He indicated the chair across from him and Spock sat.

There was silence for a moment. “I don’t think this is gonna go well, Spock.” Spock said nothing. Nothing needed to be said. “I’ve been reviewing my notes these past couple of days and anyone from Starfleet reading them would just see a man spiraling further and further into depression. Even if he is allowed to stay, I’m not sure how long it would take for him to be reinstated because it would be hell trying to prove he’s alright after this. And, even then, he would be reinstated at a much lower position. Probably a lieutenant. He’s not gonna like that.”

“Have you reviewed the case I have prepared stating that it would be further detrimental to Jim’s health to remove him from the Enterprise?”

For the first time in the conversation, Leonard met Spock’s eyes, his tone only a fraction lighter. “I have. It’s good. Very compelling. But, I think Jim’s interview is going to go worse than your case can make up for.”

Spock nodded solemnly, ignoring the emotions welling inside of him.

“Your meeting is soon, Doctor. You may want to go and prepare Jim before you leave.”

Understanding his meaning, Leonard nodded before they went their separate ways.

Spock needed to check in with the diagnostics team from the station so that the crew would be approved for their shore leave. Stopping to do so gave him enough time that when he arrived back in his quarters, Jim and Leonard had already left for Jim’s interview.

When his door closed behind him, Spock felt his panic mounting. It was illogical: he had assessed the situation and he knew that there was a 98.27 percent chance that Jim would not be allowed back on the Enterprise and that 1.73 percent only came from the argument Spock had written up. He should not be needlessly worried when he knew the most likely outcome.

He should not hope, but he did nevertheless.

Despite having a video conference with his mother through the space stations much better connections, Spock found himself unable to leave his quarters. His emotions were not in control and he was glad that there were minimal people on board. He did not mediate— that would only aggravate him worse when he was unable to find peace. Instead, he did an extremely illogical thing he had never found himself doing before:

He paced.

And paced.

Back and forth, the entirety of his quarters: in lines, in circles, in squares, triangles, any and every shape and no shape. Anything to quiet he thoughts in his head.

It was less than two hours later that his padd chimed. Eager for any information, but fearing the worst, Spock reached for it. If the interview was already over then it was far more likely Jim will not be allowed back on the Enterprise. Spock turned on his padd.

There was a message from Doctor McCoy.

Steadying himself, Spock found that he could not look at it right at this moment. While he had considered Jim’s leaving a plausible outcome, he had never actually considered what that would truly mean.

Jim would leave the Enterprise. Spock would officially be the Captain and he would be assigned a First Officer before their departure in a week. In less than a week, someone else could be living in the room attached to Spock’s.

He clicked open the message.

 

 

  
Jim would be on board a vessel destined for Earth within the hour.

Sorrow his Spock like a wave and it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

Dropping his padd, he sunk to his knees. This could not be happening. It could not be real. Jim was leaving. Spock was alone.

Yes, he had not spoken to Jim in roughly two months— had not even seen him. But Spock realized now that he had been in denial. He had convinced himself everything was fine and now he would have to spend the rest of the five year mission without Jim.

He could die before he saw Jim again.

There was a chance Jim’s last memory of Spock would forever be angry, yelling at Spock for invading his privacy and confiscating his personal items.

Something in Spock broke then. He could feel it shattering inside of his soul but he did not know what it was.

Not caring any longer, he picked up his padd once more, determined. His fingers flew, knowing exactly their destination. He hacked into Jim’s file in less than twenty minutes.

The blank space in Jim’s file was paragraphs long: a detailed account of the redacted years. Spock read the first sentence and immediately set his padd down, resuming pacing.

_In 2245, James T. Kirk was sent by his stepfather, Frank, to live on Tarsus IV._

Spock reached a hand up to cover his mouth as the information set in, an intimately human gesture. But he paid it no mind.

This was a mistake.

Never had Spock violated Jim’s privacy in a way such as this. It was clear the reason why Jim would hide his past. And now Spock knew. He never should have done such a thing. Jim would likely never forgive him.

Spock was not sure he would ever forgive himself. This was such an ultimate betrayal of Jim’s trust. And—

And suddenly it all made sense. All of it.

Just before Jim had spiraled into this major depressive episode, they had had a mission: a planet facing a genocide and a famine.

Granted, it was unlike Tarsus IV in many ways. The ruling party was not committing the genocide: there was no one like Kodos on the planet. But, surely, it had still been enough to affect Jim immensely. The Enterprise had to provide medical care to malnourished children-- just like how Jim would have been at that age. There were constant fights and rebellions breaking out all around the planet, as well as talks about who deserved the food and who was worthy of it. While there was no one like Kodos, his rhetoric was seen by those who called themselves 'revolutionaries.'

Now that Spock was thinking about it, he had recalled Jim needing to step away at multiple times. He would stand to the side and stare into the distance, his eyes glossing over as bony children were walked past him on their way to the emergency medical tents set up by Starfleet. There were multiple ships that had responded to the distress call the Enterprise had sent out when they had arrived at the planet and found it in such a state.

It had been a planet that had already made first contact, so they did not worry about the Prime Directive. When things had begun to settle, Starfleet had inquired why they had not been alerted by the planet: a distress call could have been made when the famine was evident. The leaders of the planet had informed Starfleet that there were revolutionaries that despised Starfleet-- it was the reason why the planet had yet to join the Federation-- and when the famine had broken out, the leader had been brutally murdered and replaced by one who was extremely anti-Federation. From this had sprung a civil war that had only worsened the famine: crops being burnt in order to weaken the other side. And the planet struggled.

Spock should have noticed that the case affected Jim so much. He should have told Jim to take a few weeks off. Instead, that had simply been when Spock had started noticing the symptoms of Jim's depression, and noting that they were worsening. He had not attributed it to their recent case at all. A fatal error that Spock never should have made. If only he would have realized, then Jim would be here now and not headed back to Terra.

Spock had to do something.

He had to speak to Jim.

Even if he had invaded Jim's privacy in the worst way possible, he needed to speak to him about it. Now that Spock knew what the issue was, he could finally provide assistance to his Cap-- his friend. Yes, it would be difficult to get past the anger that Jim would no doubt experience, but Spock did not care. As far as he knew, Spock was the only one that was aware. Even Leonard seemed to not know-- he had spoken to Spock on many occasions that he had no idea what had caused Jim's depression to come back so strong and so suddenly. This was it. The trigger was clear. If only Spock could show Jim that--

He must get to him.

Forgetting the padd where it was, Spock sprinted out of his quarters. He met no person on his way off of the Enterprise and began running at full speed through the space station. Heads turned as he ran by, some of them his own crew. He could not let Jim leave without speaking to him. Spock knew he had to fix this. He had to help Jim.

Careful not to forget himself, Spock slowed as he reached the Starfleet office at the station. Inside, Leonard and Jim should be waiting for Jim's clearance to board another ship as a civilian. But, when Spock entered the lobby, he found only Leonard, sitting with his head in his hands at a chair pressed against the wall and firmly apart from the rest of the room.

Spock's mind flashed with a thousand possible explanations. Jim could not be gone. Spock would not allow that. Not before they talked. They should still have time before Jim's new ship left.

Heart racing in his side, Spock made his way to Leonard, who did not look up at the sound of his approaching feet.

“Whoever you are, fuck off," Leonard said, his face still in his hands.

“Doctor," At the sound of Spock's voice, Leonard's head shot up and it was clear he had been crying. "Where is Jim?"

“You're too late. He left to board the USS Rivers ten minutes ago."

The word no was all Spock's mind could think. Luckily, it appeared he did not have to think for his body to spring into action once more.

He knew where all of the ships were located and he began sprinting. Even if Jim had boarded the USS Rivers, it was not scheduled to depart for another thirty minutes. Or so. Approximately. Spock's mind could not calculate the exact time and he devoted all of his energy to getting to the ship as fast as his legs could get him there.

And then the USS Rivers was in sight. From where Spock was at the top of a hill, he could see the last of the crew filing onto the ship and the station's diagnostics team leaving, which should not happen until the ship was ready to depart. They could not be early, could they? Spock's heart raced as he propelled down the hill, beating in hope and anticipation rather than shortness of breath. The doors closed the ship off, and Spock watched as the engines began to ready themselves.

Still, he ran on. He had to speak to Jim, so the USS Rivers was just going to have to wait.

Spock was less than two hundred feet when the ship began to rise into the air.

He stopped dead in his tracks, all hope lost, which was exactly why hope was such an illogical thing to have. The pain that he felt inside of him at the knowledge that Jim was on his way back to Terra was even more proof that maybe Spock should never have left Vulcan in the first place.

Because it was all too much. He could not bear it. How did humans do it? Every day, this painful strength of emotions reigning unchecked? Spock was sure it would kill him. The sorrow, the agony, the guilt. All of it was crushing him like he was a small bug underneath a shoe. He could not do this.

He was unconscious before he hit the  
ground.

  
__________

Spock blinked his eyes open in sickbay, Doctor McCoy peering over him.

“What the hell, Spock?" was the first thing he heard.

He sat up, feeling woozy. "Please clarify your inquiry, Doctor."

“You went running off and when I found you, you were passed out cold on the concrete. What did you do?"

His eyes fixated on a spot in the distance. He felt numb from suppressing his emotions. "I went after Jim."

Leonard scoffed. "What were you planning on doing, stopping the ship? There was nothing you could have done, Spock. Believe me, none of us wanted to see him go, but it wasn't our decision. Hopefully, there will be some good psychologists on Earth that he'll agree to see that can help him through whatever caused this but, Spock--"

“I know what caused it, Doctor. I know what brought this on. It is why I must speak to Jim." Spock swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Immediately, a hand was on his shoulder.

“Sit down, dammit, or does no one on this ship respect my authority as a Doctor?" Spock sat obediently. He truly did not feel well and taking the Doctor's medical advice would be wise. "You had a major influx of emotions. I have no idea what you did, but basically you felt too much and your brain couldn't handle it and you passed out. At least, that's what the Vulcans I conferenced with told me."

Spock turned to Leonard, arching an inquiring brow. "You spoke to those on New Vulcan?"

McCoy nodded. "You've been out for three days, Spock, I was starting to get a little worried. M'Benga didn't have an explanation and Chapel and I talked about it for what must have been at least two hours. You gotta be more careful, Spock. What the hell happened?"

“I must speak to Jim." Spock made a move to stand up.

“Look, whatever it is, I'm sure he'll talk it over with a good psychologist on Earth. He wants to come back and he knows he needs to pass a psych eval to do that and I think that's motivation enough for him to actually see somebody with a little bit more experience than me."

Spock shook his head. "If he refused to tell this to even his closest friends, he will not speak of it to a stranger. And, I have no doubts that after the events occurred he was supplied with the opportunity to speak with a mental health professional. He has a clear avoidance of such authorities, so I am assuming it did not end well."

Leonard crossed his arms. "Spock, what the hell are you on about? And since when did you find out about all this? Jim hasn't been talking to you."

Now was the time for confession. Spock glanced around the room to make sure it was empty before telling McCoy. "I hacked into a restricted section of Jim's file and it is clear to me now exactly why his depression was so bad in the first place, as well as why it was triggered."

McCoy looked at him expectantly. "Well, what is it?"

Spock shook his head. "No. It was a terrible mistake for me to invade his privacy like that. I will not further it by sharing it with anyone, even you, Doctor."

McCoy seemed to understand that well enough, but that did not mean he seemed happy about it.

“I’m not gonna tell you that that was a bad idea because you obviously already know that, but what was talking to him going to fix? His evaluation was done. There’s nothing you can do, Spock.”

Spock battled with his emotions, which was something he was not accustomed to. “Doctor, I must speak to him. Now that I am aware....I must speak to him.” It was the only thought in Spock’s mind as he stood and left sickbay, ignoring both McCoy’s protests and the swaying he was feeling. He needed to speak to Jim.

It did not take him long to find a way to contact the USS Rivers. He found himself staring into the face of a communications officer. “You have contacted the USS Rivers. I am Ensign Larta. For what reason is your contact?”

“This is Captain Spock of the USS Enterprise. I need to speak with—“ His back straightened immediately when he heard that Spock was a Captain.

“Would you like me to transfer you to the bridge, sir?”

Pushing aside the annoyance he felt at the ensign’s interruption, Spock continued. “No, Ensign, I would not. I have contacted to speak with a civilian you are transporting back to Terra: former Enterprise Captain James T. Kirk.”

He made a face at Spock’s words. It didn’t seem too sympathetic if Spock was any judge but more...what was that word he had heard Jim use? Bitchy. “I’m very sorry, Captain, but we don’t have permission to connect civilians through Starfleet. You would have to contact him directly.”

Yes, the term _bitchy_ applied quite well to this ensign. “Ensign, as a Starfleet Captain I am aware of the situation and regulations.” There was no one more aware than Spock was. “However, Kirk has no personal method of contact and was a Starfleet officer prior to a matter of hours ago when he was relieved of duty officially and the information that I have to give him could potentially reinstate him as a Starfleet officer. Therefore, it is Starfleet business and I should be connected at once.”

Ensign Larta’s attention was focused somewhere offscreen as Spock finished speaking. How incredibly rude. “I am very sorry, Captain, but it seems my communications station has started break. You will have to contact us later and try again.” The screen of Spock’s padd went blank.

Spock blinked. He could not believe what and just happened. Not only was that incredibly rude and unrepresentative of Starfleet, but how dare an ensign speak in such a way to a Captain?

Still reeling, Spock spent the next few hours attempting to talk to multiple communications officers with whom he got no farther than the first. Did they not see that this was an urgent matter that concerned Starfleet? Their best Captain was—

Spock cut himself short, taking deep breaths. The lack of fulfilling meditation was too much. It was getting to him. He had to try again.

Maybe with this new information....

He lowered himself onto his meditation mat, trying not to hope that things would be different this time, and sunk into his mind.

Having not attempted meditation in a while, the shock of the cold that has penetrated the first layer for the last six months nearly threw him out of his own mind. He had to push past it.

The next level of his psyche came as a relief with the temperature. The expanse of black that had not changed, however, only showing a blue light in the distance. The exact color of Jim’s eyes. Gathering himself, Spock began to run towards it. He knew it did not matter how long it took him to reach it but, nevertheless, he did not wish to waste any time. He could possibly find the answer this time.

He could possibly find peace.

The blue light enveloped him and when it faded to his side he was once again standing in the mist on the strange sand that refused to stick to his body. Once more, Jim’s hand reached his and Spock watched in pain as Jim screamed silently for help, his heart aching in his side. But then he fell through to the white room: the only one of any importance.

Spock crashed onto the pile of sand in the bright space, his eyes immediately seeking out where he knew Jim would be. From where he was, he could see Jim’s shoulders shaking from sobs. Now that Spock knew the reason for them, the empathetic pain was even greater.

But he was convinced he would be able to get through to the child this time. With what he knew now....

Spock approached the child with caution, knowing from previous experience how skittish he could be. Frightened eyes stared back into Spock’s own when he knelt in front of young Jim.

“I am not here to hurt you,” Spock began. “You are safe here.” This was typically how he always started out: something along those lines seemed to calm the child down but then he would get skeptical.

Jim’s young eyes peeked up farther as he sat up, still clearly wary. “Who are you?”

Spock was also familiar with this route. “My name is Spock.”

Young Jim took a glance at the bright place around him. “Where are we?” He asked in a defiant voice that still betrayed his fear.

And, for once, Spock decided to grace that question with a straightforward answer. “We are in my head, Jim.”

The child stared at him, dumbfounded.

“I know this does not make sense to you. But would you allow me to explain?”

Jim’s nod seemed reluctant but there was intrigue behind his eyes and his shoulders tilted forward every so slightly.

“Jim, you are no longer on Tarsus. The planet was rescued long ago and you went on to live your life and become a Starfleet Captain. That is how we met. However, you are now experiencing some issues in your life and I am trying to help you with them. It is because of this that you have appeared in my mind. Can you try to help me?”

Spock was so engrossed in the conversation with the child that he did not notice the other presence until it was looming above him. And, suddenly, a familiar hand was resting on young Jim’s shoulder. Spock looked up and met the eyes of his former Captain.

The older Jim met Spock’s gaze evenly and his grip on his younger counterpart’s shoulder tightened. When he spoke his voice was low. Murderous. “I want you to stay away from him, Spock. You don’t know anything about Tarsus or what I went through and you never will. Don’t you understand that? You’ll never be able to empathize, Spock. You can’t help me.”

Together, the Jims began to rise. Spock clambered after them. “Jim, wait. I believe I may be able to help you. If you would simply speak to me about what is happening. Maybe then I could be of assistance to you.”

Jim took his younger self by both shoulders, turning him to face away from Spock. “Don’t you ever come near him again, do you understand that? Or me, for that matter. You can’t help, so stop trying. Because when you tried to help, you made things worse. You removed me from duty to get me counseling and instead I get removed from Starfleet. How the hell is that helping me? So, I’m only going to say this now, Spock. Don't you ever try and contact me again. Do you understand? Stay away from all versions of me, okay? It’s done. It’s over. There’s nothing else you can do and trying will only make it worse.”

With that, Jim turned and led his younger self away from Spock, shattering what remained of Spock’s broken heart in the process. As they walked, young Jim snuck a glance over his shoulder, his icy blue, innocent eyes that had seen far too much meeting Spock’s for a brief second and betraying all of his inner pain, before they darted away and he turned around once more.

Spock keeled over and was immediately ejected from his mind, finding himself bent over on his hands in knees in the same position he had fallen in, rather than his meditation position.

What was that? What had happened? Spock was unable to shake the effects it had left on him, despite knowing that it was all part of his mind. Jim had not really requested Spock cease all contact: it was simply a solution his brain had shown him.

With a shock, Spock realized his brain had given up. All logical answers led him to giving up. But, he found he could not. The motivation of his heart was by far stronger. How was that possible? Was this how humans constantly made decisions based on their emotions?

Spock should still make attempts to contact Jim, should he not? Despite the logical conclusion his brain had reached, he knew that would likely make Jim feel even worse. His depression was likely causing him to feel unwanted as it was: if he was ignored from his former crew and his friends, that would only exacerbate the feeling.

But, yes, Spock was reminded that he had no way of contacting Jim. Maybe that is why his psyche’s counsel had been to give up. There was no logical way to complete the intended action anyway, so Spock should not attempt to do so. Repeating the same thing and expecting different results was the definition of insanity.

Maybe that is why it said that love makes people “crazy.” No sane person would go to the lengths that Spock would go to for Jim. This is what true love must be defined as. There was no other explanation that Spock could consider.

Yet, as he reflected on his mediation session he realized he had still not reached the peace of his fifth level. His mind may have attempted at a solution, but it was not at ease with it. Spock suspected he would not be at ease until this was all fixed.

He would just have to fix it.

But now, he had to check in with the maintenance being done to his ship.

__________

_Eleven Months Later_

Spock slumped— yes, slumped— into his bed. He needed sleep, desperately. Today would have been a trying day for any Captain, yet it had to be Spock who was dealing with overly aggressive Klingons (and that was saying something about how difficult these Klingons were being). Spock had more of his crew in sickbay than he cared to count (42) and McCoy had yelled at him for putting so many of the crew in harm’s way. It was because of this disaster, however, and Spock’s fine handling of it, that Starfleet had elected to cut their five year mission short by a month. They were going home to Terra.

And Spock needed to sleep.

He had not been able to reach the deep, comforting fifth level of his psyche in over a year now and he was learning more and more about what it was like to function as a sleep-deprived human. A few months ago, the crew had begun to take notice of his lack of emotional control and he had to gather the bridge crew and explain to them the situation. He would be seeing a mind healer in San Francisco when they arrived back, something that clearly communicated how desperate Spock was. But before he did that there was something else he wanted to try. It was a “long shot,” but Spock’s first stop on Terra would be, of course, Jim.

Spock did not care how sleep deprived he was or how little he was able to function currently. Jim came first.

But, for now, he fell off to sleep.

When he awoke, Doctor McCoy was standing over him in his quarters. “Doctor,” Spock said, sitting up. “I did not hear you come in.”

Leonard was focused on his tricorder, tapping out readings. “Look, Spock, I know there’s technically no set standard for you and all with your weird biology, but over the past five or so years I’ve gotten a handle on what your readings _should_ be and these are going wild, even for you. I’m going to need you to come to sickbay.”

“Doctor with all due respect, the ship will be docking in approximately three point six seven hours. As acting Captain, I must make checks on all of the ships departments before conferring with the base’s crew and making preparations for our docking.” Spock stood and Leonard held out a hand to stop him.

“Yeah, well, as Doctor I get to say ‘nope, you’re not allowed to do any of that right now.’ Send your First Officer to do it. If you’re not down in sickbay in ten minutes, I will find you and sedate you. Are we understood?”

Spock nodded.

“Oh,” McCoy said. “I don’t think I miss the way you’ve been saying _acting_ Captain for the past year and a half.” With that, Leonard left.

Spock sat on the edge of the bed, thinking about what Leonard had said. He knew exactly why his vital signs were so off: he needed his meditation. Therefore, it would be entirely logical for Spock to see the mind healer as soon as possible. But Spock did not care. For once in his life, his emotions were taking over and Spock was too weak to try and fight them anymore.

In sickbay, McCoy had ordered him to see some Vulcan specialists and get all of this figured out. Spock had nodded, promising he would and not informing Leonard that he would be heading to Iowa a half hour after they docked.

The docking process passed quickly, Spock barely holding it together through the talks with the Starfleet officials. Then, he did not remember much of the trip to Riverside— desperately needing rest, he had leaned his head against the window and slept most of the way, opening his eyes only a few miles outside of Riverside.

Spock was usually so logical: he usually had an entire plan. This time, however, he did not. He only knew he needed to find Jim and speak to him.

By now, Spock was groggy from sleeping the entire ride but he was not going to stop until he saw Jim again. He was not even sure if there was anything he could do to help Jim, but he knew he must try. The shaking child in his mind made him know.

Once in town, Spock had to determine how he was going to get out to the farm on which Jim lived. After speaking to a number of people, he finally found a nice woman willing to give him a ride “out that way.” In reality, she drove until about a mile from the farmhouse, stopping her truck at a dirt road intersection and informing Spock to just keep walking straight and it was the first house he would see. He thanked her and she drove off, leaving him on the dusty road.

With each step that Spock took, he wondered if he was making a mistake. How would Jim react to seeing him? Would he be worse off than he was when he left the Enterprise? It had been almost a year. Maybe he had been able to get past what was happening with him— maybe he had sought out help on his own. Spock knew that Jim would do one of two things: admit to everything and recognize his need for help, or just say he was not the same. Either way, Spock pressed on, knowing he could not be away from Jim for another minute. It had been so long since they had been together. Spock knew that the last time they had played chess together was 17.28 months prior. The last time he had seen Jim smile was 17.13 months ago. And Spock’s heart had been aching in his side ever since.

Part of him wondered if the roles were reversed, what Jim would do. Naturally, Jim never would have made it so Spock would have to leave the Enterprise. Jim would undoubtedly be upset and possibly blame Spock for that. It did not matter: Spock had to see him and know that he was well.

The farmhouse quickly came into view over the tops of the cornfields, which were reaching up to about Spock’s waist. As he approached the house, he pushed down all the uncertainties that were creeping up surrounding his visit. Maybe he should have warned Jim that he would be coming. In fact, Spock knew he should have, but that he did not because he was afraid of Jim outright refusing to see him, as he had done his last months on board the Enterprise.

Spock walked up the steps to the porch and reached a hand out. He did not hesitate before he knocked on the door.

After waiting a few minutes and hearing no sign of anything in the house moving, Spock determined either no one was home or no one was in the house. He therefore decided to walk around the house and look to see if he could find anyone.

A few feet from the house, something rubbed up against Spock’s leg. He jumped into the air, barely containing an undignified shriek. Once he had calmed himself, he looked down and found a cat rubbing up against his ankles. As Spock watched, the cat walked away from him and towards a barn farther down the property. Spock followed the cat for some reason he could not explain.

It was when Spock got closer to the barn that he could hear sounds from inside of it. He was not sure what was making the sounds until he heard a very human curse: it was Jim.

The cat pawed at the edge of the door, pushing it open before sliding inside and giving a tiny meow. From inside, Jim cursed again.

“Shit, Callie, you scared me. Come here, girl.” Jim clearly began to approach the door and Spock inwardly panicked. He did not know what to do.

He did not have to decide, however, as the next moment Jim kicked open the door, a shotgun high on his shoulder, poised to shoot. “Who are you and—“ He stopped short at the sight of Spock, hesitating a fraction of a moment before blinking and lowering the gun. “Spock. What the hell?”

Spock did not know what to say. His eyes were trained on the shotgun, his heart racing in his side. Why did Jim own a shotgun? They were archaic and barbaric why did he have—

“Hey,” Jim waved his hand in front of Spock’s face. “Earth to Spock. Calm down. You’re in corn country. Everybody has a shotgun. It’s commonplace. Don’t worry about it. They don’t even hurt that bad.” Spock calmed down and his eyes met Jim’s for the first time in many months. “What are you doing here?” Jim asked.

“The five year mission ended a month early and so—“

“No, what are you doing _here_?” Jim emphasized. “Standing outside my barn. On my property. In Riverside. Why aren’t you in San Francisco or something?” Jim dropped the shotgun to the ground after flicking on the safety, Callie stalking out to sniff it the second he did.

“I came to see you, Jim.”

“Why, Spock?”

Spock blinked. He had not been expecting that question. “To see how you are doing, Jim.”

“Just right fucking dandy,” Jim deadpanned. Then, it got worse. Jim began to get angry. “I mean, no thanks to you, right? You just wanted what was best for me. Which was obviously removing me from the only thing I have ever loved doing and then taking me out of space and having me sent back to this hellhole, huh?”

“Jim, I—“

“Oh, I get what you were thinking.” Jim began to raise his voice and Spock lowered his, allowing him this choice. “Maybe I could take some time to focus on myself and get all introspective and fix things logically. Sometimes logic doesn’t work, Spock.”

“You are correct,” Spock said and Jim stopped in his verbal tracks. “I did not know what to do to help you. I chose the most logical option that would force you to open up emotionally to someone who would understand. I could not help you. I did not know what to do.”

Jim rubbed a hand across his face. “Fuck, Spock. All I needed was someone who would sit next to me. I didn’t need you to fix me. I just needed you to—“ Jim cut himself short, his eyes darting anywhere but Spock’s face. “Look,” he began again. “You have no idea what was going on. And, yes, I would have benefited from talking to someone about it, but it also would have just passed in time. It—it always does.”

Now Spock must tell him. This was the time. Yes, he had broken Jim’s trust, but he must not lie about it. “Jim, I do know what caused—“

“No you don’t.” Jim cut him off.

“Just as you were entering your interview....”  
Spock hesitated. “I hacked into the restricted section of your file.”

Jim cursed, turning and punching the wall next to him. “What the fuck, Spock?!” He yelled.

“I was attempting to find a way to help you and—“

“No, it was just a morbid curiosity, wasn’t it? Did you read it? Did you read it _all_? Get every little detail and—“

“No, Jim. I did not. Simply the first sentence sufficed and I knew I had to leave immediately. I was attempting to stop your interview to speak to you and I found that it had already ended. Your trigger was clear and I believed I could have argued well for you to stay on the Enterprise. I ran after you, but I could not catch you before the USS Rivers departed.”

“So you just gave up?”

“I attempted to contact you through the communications department on board the Rivers, but...” How should Spock phrase this? “Ensigns are rude and do not care to listen to anyone that is not their own Captain. I attempted to contact you multiple times while you were on board the Rivers, and when I knew you had arrived back in San Francisco, I had even tried to make a case with Starfleet to put me in contact with you but they refused.

“Jim, I am sorry. I have failed you as both your friend and your First Officer. I came here today to see that you are well. I realize now that I have made a mistake. I knew when I removed you from duty, I was jeopardizing our friendship, but I did not see any other option. Had I known what you needed, I would have done it. I am sorry for how I have failed you, Jim. I will leave now.”

Spock turned and began to walk away, finding it hard to suppress his emotions these days. His shields were destroyed from lack of meditation so when Jim reached out to grab his arm saying, “Spock, wait,” Spock could not throw them up in time to stop the exchange of emotions between the two of them.

Jim’s unbridled emotions overran Spock’s own and he caught intense feelings of anger, regret, anguish, and a heartbreak that mirrored Spock’s own. In turn, Jim staggered back with a gasp, breaking off their contact in the process.

Wide-eyed, he blinked up at Spock. “Spock, are you okay?” He asked immediately.

“I do not know what—“

“I mean, we’ve made accidental physical contact before that you haven’t been prepared for but it’s never been anything like that. You’re so...tired. And...heartbroken...?” He said slowly, clearly confused. “Spock, now that I’m looking at you, you don’t look so good. Have you been sleeping? Eating? Here,” Jim reached out as if to guide Spock, but kept his hands a short distance from Spock’s skin. “Come inside. I’ll feed you. Get you some rest.”

Diligently, Spock followed, letting Jim walk them back to the farmhouse and sit Spock down at the kitchen table where he hesitated before sitting next to Spock.

“Are you okay, Spock? What happened in the last year? Your mind is a _mess_.”

How could Spock tell him? How could he?

“Jim, I—“ This would be the end of their friendship for certain. “I am heartbroken,” Spock confessed. “All I wished for was to help you. Instead, I made things worse and you were sent back here, as you stated. It is all my fault, Jim. I have failed you.”

“Spock.” Jim sighed. “Okay, I’m sorry for yelling at you just now. I’m over it, really, and I get why you did it. Hell, I probably would have done the same thing. It’s just that when you showed up, all that anger resurfaced for a moment. And, I’m fine now. Like I said, this thing comes and goes sometimes but the point is that it comes _and goes._ It’s not your fault in any way.” He paused for a moment, wondering if his next question was too personal. “Spock, why are you heartbroken?”

He inhaled a sharp breath, telling himself he would not cry because Jim had asked him that question. All of his thoughts for the last year and a half hit him with full force: he had lost him. Through a voice thick with emotion, Spock spoke. “I lost you as a friend, Jim. I lost you as a person. And the loss left me emotionally shattered.”

Jim took a seat next to Spock. “You didn’t lose me as a friend.” He straightened for a second, considering his next words. “I’m going to tell you something you told me, perhaps years ago, perhaps in the future: I have been and always shall be, your friend.” Jim cracked a signature smile. “Spock, I’m okay. We’re okay.”

But Spock’s eyes were welled with tears that he could not see past. “Jim, it is more than that,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“What else could it be, Spock? I mean, yeah, I was hurt at the time but it’s been a year and I’ve grown. What else?”

Spock squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he could not take it anymore. “I am heartbroken because I lost _you_ , Jim. Not only your friendship, but your company. Your companionship. Your presence in my life with your smile and your illogical human tendencies and—“ Spock paused, knowing he needed a moment. His voice was not strong when he made his confession. “Jim, I am in love with you.”

Stunned silence filled the room. “You are?” was all Jim could manage.

Unable to meet his eyes, Spock simply nodded.

A heartbeat passed as Jim reached out, laying his hand atop Spock’s on the table so he would know all of Jim’s emotions. “Spock, I—“ Jim paused, knowing he did not have to say more, but wanting to anyway. “Spock, don’t beat yourself up about this. Seriously. It comes and goes and it’s not like you could have known. I didn’t tell you. You haven’t lost me as a friend. You haven’t lost me as anything.”

Spock did not trust his voice, but he spoke anyway. “Jim, I have caused you pain. Therefore—“

“Spock. Everyone causes everyone pain. It’s part of having emotion. You said yourself that you wanted to help me but that you didn’t know how so you did the only thing you could think of. It may not have been the perfect choice, but it was the best you could do with what you had to work with. I was upset. I’m not anymore.” His hand remained on Spock’s, letting him know the truth behind his words.

Now, Spock raised his head to meet Jim’s eyes. He turned his hand over, unsure if that was allowed but Jim did not move his hand. “Jim, if this ever happens again, please...I want to help.”

Jim smiled. “If something like this ever happens again, all I really need is someone to sit next to me and remind me that I’m not alone. That’s what makes the spiraling worse.”

“I will do that for you, Jim. I would do anything that you need.”

“Well, your offer of help only really works if Starfleet lets me come back. I’ve got an interview in two weeks.” Jim paused, glancing down a moment. “I’m told there’s a good chance they won’t let me have the Enterprise back. There’s a good chance I may never be let back into Starfleet at all.”

Through their connected skin, Spock was able to feel all of Jim’s sorrow and worry. Moving their hands into an ozh’esta, Spock comforted him. “If Starfleet does not let you back, I am resigning.”

Jim’s panic raced through to Spock but he didn’t move his hand. “No, Spock, I can’t let you do that. I—“

Spock held up a hand to stop him. “Jim, I have spent eleven months on the Enterprise without you. I do not want to do this again. I—“ He took a breath, unsure if he should disclose the information about his meditation problems to Jim.

Moving his fingers against Spock’s, Jim spoke. “What is it that you don’t want to tell me? I can feel that you’re hesitating. Side note— that’s super weird but also interesting.” Spock almost smiled at that.

He took a moment to pause, thinking about what was happening to him right now. How had he and Jim slipped into this casual setting together? Here they were, sitting at Jim’s kitchen table and _kissing_ and nothing felt weird or fast or rushed; it felt like Spock was home. He knew that Jim felt the same way.

He decided to tell him. “Jim, since you began experiencing your depressive episode, I have been unable to meditate properly. I have been emotionally unstable and have not found peace in my own mind. It is why my shields earlier were not strong enough to stop you from feeling my emotions.”

“Is that why you feel exhausted?” Spock nodded. “How about I make you something to eat and you go and try and meditate. Maybe our conversation has put your mind at ease a little.” Spock agreed and Jim moved to the kitchen.

Spock stood and made his way into the living room, folding himself into his meditation position on the floor.

The first level was the same, the cold putting Spock on edge. Was it all going to be the same? But then he slipped into the second level.

He breathed a sigh of relief realizing it was all back to normal. Colors and emotions swirled around him, representing all of his emotions. At peace with this, Spock was able to sink into the third level.

Instead of the grey mist and nonsticky sand, Spock landed on soft grass. The sky was sunny, casting soft rays much unlike Vulcan’s twin suns. A short distance away, sat Jim on a picnic blanket.

He smiled as Spock approached. “Hey,” he said.

Spock sat next to him, content. This level was the physical manifestation of his emotions. And here Jim was, happy and chatting as usual, setting up a game of chess for them to play. But, Spock did not stay for long, anxious to see if he could penetrate into the fifth level.

He reached out, offering an ozh’esta to Jim. After pulling away, he dropped to the fourth level, a cold feeling in his stomach. He did not want to open his eyes to find young Jim.

The room was stark white as it had been, but as Spock watched, it began to transform around him. It was a house and Spock was standing in the middle of the living room. Then, a small, laughing toddler burst through the door, her arms thrown out. She shrieked as Jim threw the door open behind her, both laughing as Jim fake-chased the child around the room. She giggled, coming up to Spock, arms stretched up.

“Up, sa-mekh!” Spock froze for a moment. This was his daughter? Joy began to flood through him.

The child giggled once more, running around Spock in his hesitation, shrieking with laughter as Jim chased her around him. “Sa-mekh, up up! Before daddy catches me!” She giggled again.

Spock watched as the two of them danced a bit around him, Jim feinting one way, causing the child to shriek again, her giggles now uncontrollable. Then, Jim darted around Spock and snatched up the child. Spock watched as her laughs grew louder and louder.

He wanted to stay in this happy place, but he also remembered this was just an illusion of his mind and he was craving the peace of the final level. He needed to know that he would be able to enter it.

Slowly, Spock closed his eyes and the sound of his daughter’s laughter faded out. Peace overcame him.

Finally, after these long months, he was at peace.

When he opened his eyes, Spock was shocked. His gaze was drawn to it immediately. There, clearly visible next to his parental bonds, was something new. A new bond.

He approached it cautiously, unsure of how stable it was or how long it had been there, as he had been unable to reach this level for the last year and a half. When he reached out a hesitant hand, he found himself shaking. He rested his hand on the bond with a light touch.

Emotions overwhelmed him. He was shocked, he was ecstatic, he was scared. Before he could process this, however, he was shaken out of his trance by Jim.

Spock opened his eyes, finding himself once more in the living room of Jim’s farmhouse in Riverside. He was holding onto Spock’s arm and shaking him.

“Spock are you alright? You....” He faded off.

In response, Spock blinked. “Was I giving any indication that I was in distress?”

Jim shook his head. “I don’t know it...it was weird. I was standing in the kitchen and then I just _knew_ something was happening. I can’t explain it.”

For once, Spock allowed himself to smile. The sight made Jim give him an odd look.

“Please, Jim,” he said. “Sit. We must talk.”

Jim did as he asked and Spock began talking. “This may come as a shock to you, as it did to me, but it is something I must be sure that you are aware of.” He took a deep breath, deciding to start with Vulcan basics. “When a Vulcan meditates, they go through the five levels of their psyche. The first is the surface. The second shows what emotions we are feeling. The third shows the physical manifestation of our problems. The fourth provides possible solutions to these problems. And the fifth brings us deep peace. It is also where we can view that status of our bonds. It is this fifth level that I have been unable to achieve for a year and a half.

“Just now, when I was able to reach the fifth level once more, I found something new there. You and I Jim...we are bonded.”

Jim’s eyes went wide. “Isn’t that like being Vulcan married? How did it happen? Don’t you need someone to like perform the link or whatever?”

Spock internally felt relieved that Jim had not had an adverse reaction to the news, but rather an interested one. “Usually, yes. However, there is one type of bond that forms on its own when the two are overly compatible and go through a period of intense emotion together. It is, however, incredibly rare, but I have reason to believe that you and I may have formed a spontaneous t’hy’la bond. It is one of the most revered bonds possible for a Vulcan to achieve.

“However, it is not fully formed. It seems to only be preliminary and that— if we wish— we must solidify it with a mind meld.”

Jim met his eyes. “Okay. I mean, this is probably a lot for you to take in, but I think this makes a lot of sense, in a way.” He reached down and picked up Spock’s hand in his own. “What do you want, Spock?”

He brushed his fingers against Spock’s and he lost all of his resolve. He had been away from Jim for too long. All of his anguish and heartbreak made even more sense now: Jim was his t’hy’la.

“You,” Spock answered.

“Do you want to do it now?” Jim asked.

Reaching his hand up, Spock was ready to place them at his meld points, but paused. “If you are ready.”

Jim held tight to Spock’s other hand and Spock had to take a deep breath. He knew some part of Jim was nervous, and he tried to push aside the arousal he was feeling from Jim taking his hand like that.

Leaning forward, Spock pressed against Jim’s meld points.

Spock did not wish to stay long in Jim’s mind now, as his own was still weak. His emotions may be too much for Jim to handle over too long a period of time. So, he made his way about their joined minds to find their bond and solidified it before retreating.

When he pulled his hands back, Jim was staring at him in awe. “That was amazing,” he whispered. “I changed my mind. If I ever get a super depressive episode again, do _that_.”

“Jim, now that our bond is solidified, our minds are one.” Spock demonstrated, sending comfort through their bond. Jim visibly reacted, startling.

“You did that?” Spock simply nodded, allowing him to get accustomed to the feeling. “Wow,” Jim whispered, in awe.

“Anyway,” Jim stood. “I think the soup is ready.”

Spock stood as well, and followed Jim towards the kitchen. “Jim,” he began and waited until Jim turned to look at him. “After we eat, would you like to accompany me on a call to my mother to explain the situation and—“

“And announce our marriage?! Yes, of course. We should also probably tell Bones,” Jim began ladling soup. “Cause he’s probably gonna be kinda pissed that we kind of up and got married and he didn’t know.”

“It was not intentional,” Spock reminded him.

Jim passed him the bowl of soup, their fingers making brief contact. Spock shuddered at the touch. “I know it wasn’t. But, I’m kind of glad it happened. Actually, I’m really glad it happened. It just seems to surreal that after all these years of being in love with you, things just fit together so perfectly like this.”

“I suppose,” Spock said. “That in a way, things had always been like this between us.”

Jim met his eyes. “You’re right. Other than those first few months with the Nero bit, things have always been pretty comfortable between us.” He paused. “Do you think it has anything to do with the fact that we’re t’hy’la?”

Spock allowed a shadow of a smile. “I think it has everything to do with it.” They made their way to the table.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to end it there because I wanted to end on a cute, domestic note 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Please feel free to leave a comment and/ or message me on [ tumblr ](https://www.spirkbaby.tumblr.com)
> 
> The spirk playlist is [ here ](https://open.spotify.com/user/jamesilver/playlist/1qp0vO3eBMGih6pymVSPx2?si=RayQrivZSbOjXIT7KRuhGA)
> 
> Also, feel free to leave any song recommendations for the playlist!! I will continue to write more fics based off of songs and they will be added into this series!!
> 
> I am also currently taking ficlet requests on [ tumblr ](https://www.spirkbaby.tumblr.com)


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